The Before Birds
by Ajluv
Summary: "It's a grisly tale actually." Milliard explained absentmindedly, not realizing that nobody was listening. "These birds take their audiences very seriously, leaving without approval turns into a mass massacre." Then everybody started listening.


We know much about you." The wise old bird bowed its head and ruffled its black and gray feathers. "We know everything there is to know about you." Behind the bird, which was clearly the oldest and leader, the flock of Vultures bowed their heads and nodded.

"Yes. Yes. Everything there is to know." They chanted and behind Emma, the rest of the children shifted nervously.

"We're in the wrong loop." Enoch whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"Hush, at least there aren't Hollows." Emma said crossly, watching as the birds ruffled and preened their feathers absentmindedly, almost as if they were thinking about anything. "Milliard. Any luck?"

The indentations in the mud grew deeper as Milliard bounced up and down with nervousness. "Not yet." He hissed and began flipping the pages of the fairy tale book even more frantically.

"Should I take the others?" Jacob whispered in her ear, arms poised to grab the little ones and run back the old cave that served as a loop entrance.

As strange as the birds were, they didn't seem frightening, only suspicious. They sat there idly, as if bored and made no threatening moves. As far as Emma knew, they were perfectly harmless. They almost could have been from from the peculiar menagerie.

"No. Stay." She said firmly and felt Jacob melt away, back into the crowd of outcasts and abandoned children, the sad ragtag group of peculiars meant for an army.

Those stupid birds, effecting her thoughts.

Almost as if on cue, the leader straightened up and barked two words. "EMMA BLOOM."

The rest of the band crowded around her protectively and she pushed them away impatiently, grabbing Jacob's hand as he tried to slip away with the rest of the throng.

"Yes?" She asked, trying to sound brave and strong, while clutching Jacob's fingers so hard that they turned purple.

The bird croaked and began talking in deep voice that rang out over the valley like a judgement.

"Born with Pyrokinetic abilities in 1919 to Victoria Havinshire Bloom and Albert Bloom."

He bowed his head and almost immediately, another bird began talking, his voice the same eerie tone. "Developed powers at age ten."

Then another bird. "Mother left her the same day." He cackled and Emma felt her cheeks and hands go hot.

"Stop it!" She shrieked, lunging forward, even as Jacob dragged her back, wincing as his hands were burned.

The children backed up and more and more birds chimed in, forming an odd choir composed of Emma's darkest secrets, her deepest fears and highest hopes.

"Likes cinnamon biscuits and tea."

"Afraid of gasoline."

"Wanted to be a mother."

"Awful with children."

"Had a sister named Julia."

"Terribly conflicted."

The birds went on and on, their cries filling the chilly air, screaming out things at Emma as she stood at the edge of their valley, her cheeks burning with shame, her hands burning with flames, her heart burning with humiliation. Behind her were her friends, she could feel their presence as everything about her was revealed, bared into the frosty afternoon, things she barely remembered, things she barely knew about herself.

"Favorite color is orange."

"Loves to swim."

"Hates to wear gloves because of the restriction to her hands."

"Ah yes!" Milliard cried, his overly cheerful voice stretching the tension thin, holding up the book like it was a bible and he was a devout preacher. "I've found them! They are called Before Birds. Oh. I wonder why. Emma?" His voice slowly dwindled until he was clutching the book, staring at Emma and waiting for a reaction like everyone else.

"Because." She began, speaking through gritted teeth. "They tell everyone everything about you before you're ready."

"Is there a way to stop them?" Jacob asked nervously, edging away from a bird that was eyeing him.

Milliard flipped through more pages, hemming and hawing.

"It's a grisly tale actually." Milliard explained absentmindedly, not realizing that nobody was listening. "These birds take their audiences very seriously, leaving without approval turns into a mass massacre."

Then everybody started listening.

"Massacre?" Everyone echoed.

"Massycry?" Olive whimpered.

Emma couldn't see Milliard but she could tell he was backtracking.

"Um yeah. Apparently...woah. Um...Apparently unless their entire audience listens to their own secrets, then they are slated to be torn apart." Milliard gulped. "What do we do?"

Everyone stared at each other, hoping against all odds that they wouldn't see the same look of despair flitting across their own face.

Behind them, the birds cleared their throats, as if waiting until the group of children realized what was in store before they continued.

"JACOB PORTMAN!" The leader boomed.

**Originally written for a school project, but I expanded it a bit.**


End file.
